David Foster Wallace, Philip K. Dick, and Transgressive Parody

September 28, 2008

Mack Hassler set with an interesting task this week after the unfortunate death of David Foster Wallace. He asked me to consider two questions:

1) Is PKD like Wallace in respect to the concept of “transgressive parody,” which Patrick Novotny defines in his chapter to Hassler and Wilcox’s Political Science Fiction (1997) titled, “No Future!  Cyberpunk, Industrial Music, and the Aesthetics of Postmodern Disintegration,” as, “Parody in the postmodernist aesthetic is the transgression of aesthetic and representational norms” (100).

2) How does PKD move beyond parody?

In response to the first query, Philip K. Dick operates in a similar fashion to David Foster Wallace in terms of transgressive parody.  Both authors use their medium of choice, SF for Dick and the non-fiction essay for Wallace (unfortunately, I have not yet read his fiction including Infinite Jest), as the means for their transgressive parody.  Dick parodies the streamlined and perfect futures of Clarke and Asimov through the introduction of kibble, entropy, and the disintegration of reality–a theme that Novotny elaborates in his study of cyberpunk and postmodernism, and Dick obviously is a predecessor of the cyberpunk authors and enjoyed the potential of postmodern play.  On the other hand, Wallace apes the professional essay format and bends it to his own ends through the use of play (there’s that word again), such as through his hyper-footnoting (the best parts of many of his essays are in the footnotes, and his footnotes have footnotes), and his employment of catechresis, or taking the story or argument from one context and applying it elsewhere–much in the vein of Derrida.  Dick and Wallace parody the norms of the writing that they are doing, but they transgress those norms for their own ends rather than making a comic attack on the parodied norms.  The way to think about it is that they take the postmodern sensibility of “whatever” to heart.  They appropriate the norms of the fields in which they work and reshape them, not to make a direct satire of what’s come before, rather to create something new of their own design for their own creative endeavors.  Dick brings the entropic breakdown of the real world and the inner, psychic world to SF, which had largely ignored that important aspect of reality.  Wallace brings a truly reflective mind and sensibility of open curiosity to apparently mundane and boring writing assignments–he grasps those boring moments as a place to begin thinking about more important matters that are, on the surface, only tangentially connected.

PKD moves beyond parody by using his works as a means of exploration of issues of self, identity, and subjectivity in an increasingly complex world.  On the surface, many of his works parody the cornerstones of the post-pulp era of SF.  For example, Ubik parodies aspects of SF such as space opera, but it does so only on the surface.  This isn’t Dick’s real target.  Instead, he uses the novel as a means to critique the nature of reality and the forces of entropy–two issues largely disregarded in SF until the New Wave.  Another example would be Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?  In that novel, Dick parts ways with Asimov and gives his androids a real soul and a sense of self-preservation.  However, he isn’t parodying Asimov’s R. Daneel Olivaw, but instead, he’s appropriating an element of the SF mega-text for his own purposes, which is to work through his own questions about reality, soul, and memory.  


CFP: British Society for Literature and Science, March 2009

September 28, 2008

This conference sounds like it would be perfect for my H.G. Wells tank paper.  I don’t know if I can travel to the UK, but I might send in a proposal if I can arrange it.  If you’re working on the intersection of science and literature, and you’ll be in the UK next March, read on for the details!

The 4th annual conference of the British Society for Literature and Science will take place at the University of Reading on 27th-29th March, 2009.

Keynote speakers will include Dame Gillian Beer, formerly King Edward VII Professor of English Literature at Cambridge; Patrick Parrinder, Professor of English at the University of Reading; and Simon Conway Morris, Professor of Evolutionary Palaeontology at Cambridge.

The Society invites proposals for 20-minute research papers addressing any aspect of the interaction between literature and science; collaborative panels of two or three papers; and papers or panels on the teaching of literature and science. We welcome work on literature from all periods and countries, and on all aspects of science, including medicine and technology. Presenters need not be based in UK institutions.

Please email proposals of up to 400 words to Dr John Holmes (j.r.holmes [at] reading.ac.uk) by Monday 1st December, together with a 100-word biographical note (or in the case of a panel, abstracts and notes for each speaker). Please send abstracts in the body of messages; do not use attachments. Alternatively, abstracts and proposals may be posted to:

Dr John Holmes
Department of English and American Literature University of Reading,
Whiteknights PO Box 218 Reading, RG6 6AA, UK.

Please address any queries to Dr John Holmes at the email or postal address above.


Why I Like 2001: A Space Odyssey

September 28, 2008

After the recent invasion of the SFRA email list by a Bob Arctor wannabe, Neil Easterbrook provided the list with something completely different.  He asked us this simple question:

What’s the very best, most exciting work of sf you’ve read in the last six months? New or old, what is it and why?

Due to all the work that I’m doing now, I haven’t had an opportunity to read anything new in awhile.  It seems like I’m always reading theory or playing catch-up with everything else.  Anyways, this was my easy to offer response to Neil’s query:

Unfortunately, I haven’t had an opportunity lately to read anything new lately besides a lot of theory (James English, John Guillory, Walter Benn Michaels, etc.), but I did reread Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, because I’m teaching it in my “space exploration” college writing class.  That was one of the first SF novels that I ever read, and I was excited to read it again this time.  I know my enthusiasm for the story, as well as the science and technology that the story hinges on, came out in the classroom, to the benefit of some students, and the consternation of others.  However, in returning to 2001, after many years of neglect, I remembered why I originally loved the novel so much.  It wasn’t HAL or the new space technologies, but instead, it was my wanting to take Dave Bowman’s place–I want to be the one that that gets to fall down the rabbit hole and see all the myriad wonders on my journey down, through, and back again.  I imagine that’s true for most of us, on some level, whether it’s about 2001 or another favorite work of SF, to want to be in the middle of the action when the action turns weird.


Paul Newman’s Contact With Science Fiction Criticism

September 27, 2008

I just read on the New York Times that Paul Newman passed away.  He was one of my favorite actors, most notably as Butch Cassidy in George Roy Hill’s 1969, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and as Reg Dunlop in the best Hockey movie ever, released the year that I was born, Slap Shot (1977).  Of course, Newman’s accomplishments as an actor go far beyond those two memorable roles, and one role in particular stands out in my mind, because it was the one that, in a way, served as my point of entry into Science Fiction discourse.

At Georgia Tech, I chose the Senior Thesis option to complete my B.S. in Science, Technology, and Culture, instead of the Senior Seminar.  The thesis option was better for me, because I wanted my work to serve as my graduate school writing sample.  Professor, and Chair of the School of Literature, Communication, and Culture, Kenneth Knoespel, Professor Lisa Yaszek, and Professor Doug Davis (at Gordon College) guided me in my research.  The paper that I produced, “Networks of Science, Technology, and Science Fiction During the American Cold War,” went a long way on my initial steps on the SF studies path (that sounds very Tao).  Elements of my thesis made appearances at Georgia Tech’s Monstrous Bodies Symposium, and my first SFRA conference in White Plains, New York.  So, what does that have to do with Paul Newman?  The epigraph that I chose for that paper was delivered by Paul Newman, portraying General Leslie R. Groves in the film about the first two atomic bombs, Fat Man and Little Boy.  In the film, he said to J. Robert Oppenheimer (Dwight Schultz), “Sometimes, just standing here, I keep wondering–Are we working on them, or are they working on us?  Give them dignity doctor, then we can start talking about who can do what and what they mean.”  What better way to begin a paper on the interaction between technology and culture during the Cold War?  Those lines represent the central question to which my thesis was responding.  

I’m not familiar with Paul Newman acting in any SF films, but he certainly had many connections to SF through his fellow actors, as evidenced above by working with Dwight Schultz of Star Trek:  The Next Generation fame.  However, the Guardian says that he began working in television on Tales of Tomorrow in 1952.  It would have been interesting to see Newman in a Science Fiction film, and who knows, I might even draft him in a story that’s yet to be written.


2001 A Space Odyssey and College Writing

September 25, 2008

One choice that I wanted to adhere to in designing my first college writing course was that I would have my students read some Science Fiction.  Since I settled on the space exploration theme for the class, I thought that Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001:  A Space Odyssey was the path of least resistance to bringing SF into the writing classroom, particularly when the majority of them had never read SF (a suspicion confirmed by talking with my students).

I assigned the novel as part of the second unit of the course, in which my students will write their second formal essay.  Over the course of two weeks, I have my students read one (during the week) or two parts (over a weekend), and we come together to talk it over in class.  In addition to the text, I bring a lot of materials to class such as documentary videos and still images from the Kubrick’s film and astronomy observations.  Also, I bring my science background to class, because my students have had many poignant and spot-on questions about the science that takes place in the novel.  The integration of science, which they should have had some exposure to in high school, into the writing curriculum allows for another level of instruction in addition to the tremendous, yet not impossible, amount of writing that I require of my students.  Also, their curiosity about how and why things work the way that they do is leading them down the path to developing better critical thinking skills.

I can report that there have been good days and bad days in regard to our discussions on the novel.  A large part of that is my own lack of experience in leading discussion, using wait time, and encouraging my students to think about things before class through tailored assignments.  I spend a lot of time, a whole hell of a lot of time, planning my classes.  My student’s weekly two page journals have been an invaluable resource for altering course when one thing works better than another, because I can get their reflective feedback on things that we do, in addition to my own observations of class and my performance.

As much as I’ve enjoyed using 2001:  A Space Odyssey thus far in class, I’ve now come up against a wall regarding their next writing assignment.  I have a couple of ideas, but I will have to narrow these down tomorrow and put together a handout to give out on Friday after we finish talking about Bowman’s exit and return through the Star Gate.

This returns us to planning.  I’m still grappling with finding the appropriate time to devote to class planning and responding to my students’ work.  I can confidently say at this point in my burgeoning professional career as a teacher and researcher that I cannot meet my students on the page with the same intensity and time as someone such as Carmen Kynard, who writes about her work and experiences as an instructor in her article, “‘Y’all Are Killin’ Me up in Here’:  Response Theory from a Newjack Composition Instructor/SistahGurl Meeting Her Students on the Page.”  I wish that I could, but there isn’t enough time in the day (and I’m only teaching one course–Kynard writes about having 140 students!).  I spent approximately 10 hours evaluating my students’ first essay, and I regularly spend at least an hour and a half to two hours prepping for each class.  I realize that this is my first time teaching, so I’m building up an archive of materials and methods of teaching that I will be able to remix and re-purpose in future classes, but at this point, it all seems rather overwhelming to me.  I want to give my students my all, because I expect no less from them.  On the other hand, teaching is only one aspect of my PhD career at this point, and I have to engage the courses that I’m taking and produce my own work for those courses (and conferences–I still have to rewrite my Transsexual Technologies paper for SLSA 2008).

So, that’s my report thus far from a lone spaceman in tiny pod floating in space and feeling many millions of miles from home.  Luckily, my shipboard computer didn’t try to kill me, but the stresses of second year PhD life are taking its toll.


New Rig

September 18, 2008

I may be an English PhD student, but I also enjoy working with computers.  So, it was only a matter of time before I built a new PC for fun, adventure, and a bit of World of Warcraft.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my MacBook Pro, but I’ve been unhappy with Apple and Blizzard since the MacOS X 10.5.3 update, which effectively destabilized any attempts at playing WoW for more than a few minutes at a time (if it launched at all).  I had been running MacOS X 10.5.2 in order to enter WoW, but this was an imperfect solution, because I was missing out on all of the recent security updates and fixes.

I began researching the hardware that I wanted to use in the construction of my new rig a few months ago, but I didn’t put a plan into action until recently.  I believe the fact that tipped the scale was that I learned that there was a Micro Center a short drive away in Cleveland.  I would much prefer a Fry’s to Micro Center if I’m buying local, but I had to work with what’s nearby.  I could have purchased my stuff online from a website such as Newegg, but I tend to go local due to problems I’ve had in the past with online ordered new system builds.

After comparison pricing, including rebates (oh, how Micro Center loves rebates), and checking in-store stock, Yufang and I drove to Cleveland one day, despite my being tired and not feeling well, and we spent a couple of hours at Micro Center.  I walked out the store with an Antec mid-tower case with 430 watt PSU, Biostar TP43DA2-A7 (supports DDR2-1066 and sans the bells and whistles I don’t need), Intel Core2Quad Q6600 CPU (with lower price than Newegg!), 2GB Corsair Dominator DDR2-1066 (this was a next day exchange after my first XMS2 memory turned out bad), PNY nVidia Geforce 9600GT 512MB PCIe video card, Western Digital 160GB SATA Hard Drive, Samsung DVD+/-R SATA optical drive, and Acer 19″ 5ms LCD display.  Besides the initial RAM problem, everything went together fine, and I was able to install Windows Vista Ultimate without headache.

I’ve found myself using the PC more and more since I’ve built it.  However, I’ve been using it for school rather than gaming.  In fact, I haven’t played WoW since I built my new rig–there hasn’t been any time for it.  That’s okay though, because I’ve been getting a lot of good work done for my space exploration themed college writing course that I’m teaching, as well as my student research and professional duties for SFRA.

I’ll report more on my PC soon, particularly when I get to actually relieve some stress killing Alliance characters on Ner’zhul.  Though, one thing that I don’t think I need to talk about is the Fact, and I mean that with a capital F, that Microsoft actively designed Vista to be irritating, counterintuitive, and maddeningly uncohesive.

One final thought–I like to think how science fictional it is that I can build my own computer.  What would it have been like to imagine building your own computer prior to the introduction of the MITS Altair 8800 and later, IMSAI 8080?


Blogging, Philip K. Dick, Percy Shelley, and Belief Systems

September 17, 2008

This is the third and final post of a three part series that explores some issues and ideas proposed to me by Mack Hassler as part of the independent study that he’s conducting for me on the works of Philip K. Dick.

What would Philip K. Dick do with a blog? How might he have revolutionized the way we engage and think about belief and our perception of reality had he had a less restrictive method of communicating with fans and passers-by alike?

I use my blog as a means of connecting with people personally as well as professionally. Originally intended as a personal blog about my travels abroad in the UK, it changed over time along with my own professional transformation into a PhD student and active participant in professional organizations. It allowed me to hone my writing ability through additional practice, and it facilitated feedback from those persons who happened to by blog by the almighty digital deity, Google. Also, it is a self-promotion of sorts, not unlike those by SF authors such as Cory Doctorow or John Scalzi, but it represents my life and work as a professional academic who critically thinks about the relationship between science, technology, and culture. It’s more than a calling card–it’s a bulletin board that I organize and run that facilitates a communal response to my observations and thoughts.

Philip K. Dick would undoubtedly have had a different kind of blog than Doctorow, Scalzi, or I. In his work, he questions the nature of reality and the human mind’s ability to perceive and react to the external world. He realized, like Percy Bysshe Shelley, that our relationship to the external world is made possible by our senses and the interpretation of that sensory data by our mind. Thus, the supposed external world is actually a simulation that is ever present in our mind. Dick questions, problematizes, and critiques our relationship to the external world in his myriad works, but it’s the latter works that specifically deal with perception and the questions of belief that Shelley raised in the early 18th century.

Shelley argued that the only ways in which one may believe in a Deity is directly through our senses, reason, and the experience of others. He quickly dispenses with the last two as being unequivocally insufficient for proof in God. However, the first, direct sensory perception is the only sure way to prove that God exists, for the individual. It is here that Dick steps into the picture one and three-quarter centuries later.

In his last works exploratory works, VALIS and the Exegesis, Dick describes his own direct sensory perception of a Deity, or more accurately, a Gnostic revelatory experience. In these works, which would have been the pinnacle of blog writing had he had a digital outlet for communicating his experiences, he describes on the page what he remembers of the experiences of 2-4-74 as well as his reasoning through those experiences. Dick follows what Shelley described two centuries before as the mind actively clarifying the sensory perception. And as a reflective person, Dick offered many interpretations and counter-interpretations for his sensory experience in order to find his own way of understanding the experience. From the extended process of reasoning, Dick arrived at his own set of beliefs surrounding the experience, but he conceded that they were his experiences, and despite sharing them, one must arrive at that kind of belief on their own. Additionally, he envisioned a future with less organized religion and more personal belief based on individualized experiences. In this sense, Dick is taking Shelley to task by establishing his own beliefs in a Deity.

I wonder what Dick would have concluded had he explored these ideas online through blogging. According to Sutin’s biography of Dick, Divine Invasions, Dick corresponded with friends and colleagues, but “he was blue because it seemed there was no one to talk with about the ideas that mattered to him” (273). Those ideas were those that he recorded as his verbose self-dialog in the Exegesis. However, interpersonal communication with friends is a somewhat different dynamic than the largely anonymous online communication (hence the recent flame war initiated by the new SFRA troll). Would an online community foster or impede Dick’s personal exploration of his unique sensory experiences? In addition to the voluminous writing that he was doing at that time regarding his experience, an online forum would necessitate a certain level of response and tailoring subsequent material to his readership. Perhaps this would have enhanced or altered his reasoning based on the suggestions and theories of others. However, as Shelley pointed out, we cannot wholly trust the reports of others in our own interpretation of sensory experiences. I’m confident that Dick would have been aware of this, but it would certainly have had some influence, however insignificant but subtle, on his own thinking.

There are certainly issues today with online communication and the dissemination of ideologies and systems of belief. I have heard anecdotally that online systems of communication assist individuals in finding or establishing smaller groups that share similar beliefs. Hence, Republicans find other Republicans, and Science Fiction fans find other Science Fiction fans. However, there’s certainly a cross pollination where, for example, Republicans find their way to the Science Fiction fan enclaves and either comment positively or negatively on something a SF fan has said, and vice versa. It’s these interactions between borders that I find interesting, because a synthesis at best or a culture war at worst is taking place at these imaginary or invisible dividing lines. Shelley and Dick would probably have found themselves on the same side, looking across the border at the unreflective infidels, and they would most assuredly have “guest blogged” on each other’s site.

One final thought–what would Shelley have done with a blog?  In his day, he used his wealth to print phamplets and he distributed them himself in London.  Was this an early form of blogging?  Perhaps the analogy might be that he was pushing an antiquated RSS feed to the masses (at least to the literate bourgeoise).  It’s interesting to consider the ways in which technology facilitated the ideas of Shelley and Dick, as well as to conjecture the ways in which our contemporary technology might have played a part in the further development or alteration to their ideas.


Notes on Percy Bysshe Shelley’s A Refutation of Deism: In a Dialog

September 17, 2008

This is part two of a three part post series that explores some issues and ideas proposed to me by Mack Hassler as part of the independent study that he’s conducting for me on the works of Philip K. Dick.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “Extract from A Refutation of Deism: In a Dialog.” Romantic Period Writings 1798-1832: An Anthology. Eds. Zachary Leader and Ian Haywood. New York: Routledge, 1998. 80-81.

You may find an expanded version of this extract online here.

In this extract, Shelley is questioning the prevailing social order, maintained by the monarchy and church, and its requirement for what he calls a “supernatural intelligence” (80). Also, he considers the conflict between order and disorder in that system, and the supposed requirement for a “power” that supports order, and another, malignant, that supports disorder (80).

In a thought experiment, he questions if order might have a penchant for evil, and disorder a hint at good. Why do these divisions necessarily remain diametrically opposed? He answers that order and disorder are constructions that we map onto our understanding of the world and our relationship to it (80). Therefore, what is good for us is heavenly ordained and that which is ill for us is the work of Satan.

He points out that order and disorder cannot be universal, because the criteria for those things are as varied and colored as the different people whose “opinions and feelings” create those criteria (80).

The most powerful passage in this extract is when he establishes that good and evil are relative, not only in effect, but more importantly in the relationship between people and their perception of the external world. It is human attribution of good or evil to objects and events external to the perceiver rather than an extrinsic or universal attribution of those descriptions.

And, connecting this extract to the previous, he concludes that one cannot reason the existence of a Deity, because what is believed to have divine motivation in the external world are really judgments and opinions of people mapped onto the events observed.


Notes on Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “The Necessity of Atheism”

September 17, 2008

This is part one of a three part post series that explores some issues and ideas proposed to me by Mack Hassler as part of the independent study that he’s conducting for me on the works of Philip K. Dick.  He asked me to consider the ways in which the thinking of Shelley and Dick are interrelated on the level of metaphysics and belief.  Also, he suggested that I bring those things around to the way their ideas were disseminated as well as the way I communicate online through this blog.  This and the following three posts represent my findings.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “The Necessity of Atheism.” Romantic Period Writings 1798-1832: An Anthology. Eds. Zachary Leader and Ian Haywood. New York: Routledge, 1998. 77-79.

You may find “The Necessity of Atheism” online here.

NB: Shelley and his friend, T.J. Hogg, were kicked out of Oxford for publishing this (69).

Shelley begins his proof by examining belief. Mind/active and perception/passive. The mind is active in investigating that which is perceived in order to clarify, but the mind cannot disbelief that which it perceives to be true. What Shelley calls, “the strength of belief,” is determined by, in order of highest to lowest importance, our senses, our experience (reason), and the experience of others. And it from these things that belief in a Deity derives.

Working through these three strengths, he admits that if the Deity appears to someone via the senses, then that person must belief the Deity exists. However, he employs what is best described as Occam’s Razor to seek the simpler explanation for the cause and effect of the creation of the universe or one’s own birth rather than the more complicated idea of a Deity. Finally, he establishes that we cannot trust other’s belief in a Deity that, “commanded that he should be believed, he proposed the highest rewards for faith, eternal punishments for disbelief” (79). Belief for Shelley must be voluntary and established by the perception of an individual’s senses.

He closes the essay by reprimanding those who would punish disbelievers, because one must and should only belief what they experience via the senses. Furthermore, one has no choice but to believe this way without the influence of external pressure. And, any person with a reflective mind will admit that there has been no proof for the existence of a Deity.


David Foster Wallace, Dead

September 14, 2008

Laura told me to read two things while we were dating–David Foster Wallace’s “Consider the Lobster,” and John Kennedy Toole’s Confederacy of Dunces.  In both cases, she introduced me to two significant American postmodern writers.  I knew from the beginning that there would be no new material from Toole, because he had committed suicide before the publication of his monumental work.  However, Wallace was still around and kicking, so I thought that I had much more to look forward to from him.  Unfortunately, he, too, will write no more.  I’ve been struggling with a lot of work and a sinus infection, so I missed the news last night that Wallace was found dead, having committed suicide. This is the punch to the gut that hurts most.  It’s a reminder that it’s not so much the universe against us, but that we’re against ourselves, because the universe includes us right down to the possibly quantum influenced fibrous tissues that make up our neurons.  If you’re interested in something new, I pass along the suggestion to read the works of Wallace and Toole, but I regret to tell you that these are closed bodies of texts lacking the anticipation that comes with living authors.

Michiko Kakutani has a nice reflection on David Foster Wallace’s works in the NY Times today.  Read it here.


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 81 other followers